By Dan Hoeweler
Driving my car I ogle the homeless people of Tent City
A place I easily could be residing
If my life had taken an alternate course
But instead I am simply some passerby
Driving through like a tourist
Browzing the life that could have been
Had things been different and
My life had taken a different path
Probability has taken its course
And so I accelerate past this unfortunate spectacle
Trying to forget that I could easily be here
If it were not for the improbable fluke
Of having regained my sanity
After having spent years adrift
In a sea of unreality and madness
And so I move on instead
Trying not to look back
Trying to forget
That I was ever
There